


everybody loves a little different

by dinomight



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Fjord (Critical Role), Asexual Relationship, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Internalized Acephobia, Multi, Polyamory, Relationship Negotiation, self indulgence: the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinomight/pseuds/dinomight
Summary: He knows she wants romance, and he can give her that. It may have taken him awhile to figure it out, to realize that his feelings for her had crossed over from someone he cared about to someone he was head over heels for, but he can do that. It’s the other part, the part that goes beyond hand holding and cuddling, that he isn’t sure about.(Or: Fjord has a much needed conversation with his girlfriend and his girlfriend's girlfriend.)
Relationships: Fjord & Beauregard Lionett, Fjord/Jester Lavorre, Fjord/Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 17
Kudos: 186





	everybody loves a little different

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the intersection of my favorite sorta niche things: ace Fjord and fjorestgard, because why the hell not. Be the change you want to see in the world, folks.  
> Content warnings for internalized acephobia.  
> Title from "For Me" by Dearlie.  
> Hope you enjoy!

They haven’t talked about it yet.

It’s been three weeks since they figured out...whatever they are. Fjord isn’t exactly sure what they’re calling this; relationship sounds too simple, partnership sounds like they’re about to open a tavern, and Jester’s suggested “orgy” was shut down by Beau before the word even finished leaving her mouth.

Beau, at least, he doesn’t have to worry about. 

The problem is, he doesn’t know what  _ Jester  _ wants. 

Well, not exactly. He knows she wants romance, and he can give her that. It may have taken him awhile to figure it out, to realize that his feelings for her had crossed over from someone he cared about to someone he was head over heels for, but he can do that. It’s the other part, the part that goes beyond hand holding and cuddling, that he isn’t sure about. 

Fjord isn’t oblivious. He knows Jester’s interested in him like that; her flirtatious tendencies are a bit hard to miss. But it’s been three weeks, she hasn’t tried to take anything further, and every minute that goes by without addressing it adds to the messy pile of guilt and anxiety sitting on his chest.

Vandren once told him that it’s easier to rip a bandage off all at once than it is to try and peel it away slowly. The longer this goes on, the more Fjord thinks maybe he wasn’t just talking about bandages.

They’re at an inn when he finally decides to come clean. He’s been going back and forth with it the whole night, thinking about what her reaction will be—heartbroken, maybe. Disappointed. Confused. Hurt. Angry, even, maybe enough to end whatever this blossoming thing is between them. Fjord wouldn’t blame her. After all, who would want only half a love when they have another full one sitting right there?

And isn’t that a shitty way to be, jealous because Beau can give Jester everything she needs, and he can’t. She’s his friend, not his rival—they talked about this already. The only way this thing they have together works is if they don’t get weird or insecure about it, and here he is, already fucking that up—

“Fjord?”

The drink in his hand sloshes onto the table as he jolts out of his thoughts. Jester stands in front of him, waving a hand. There’s a crease between her brows that only appears when she’s worried. Beau isn’t far behind her, though her attention is more on their surroundings than him.

“Hey, Jes,” he says, forcing a tight smile. Jester frowns.

“Fjord, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” he lies through his teeth, but it doesn’t matter. She sees right through it, always does.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she says slowly. “But it might help, you know, to let it out. No more secrets, right?”

Fjord looks up at her, and his chest aches. He has to tell her. He can’t keep this from her anymore. It’s just not fair to her. “Okay,” he says, swallowing back the panic rising in his throat. “We need to talk, then. But...somewhere more private.”

“Already got a room,” Beau chimes in, though she looks every bit as worried as Jester does right now. 

Taking a breath to steel himself, Fjord stands to follow them.

The room is too small for his pacing.

It’s crammed, with a dresser against the back wall and two beds squished in the middle of the room, with barely a foot in between them. Jester and Beau sit on one of the beds, watching him walk back and forth and pick at his tusks like a caged animal. 

“Fjord,” Beau groans. It’s not the first time she’s said it, but it is the first time Jester hasn’t chided her for it. “Spit it out already, man.”

“Alright,” he says. The old accent creeps in a bit, an instinct for defense. He clears his throat and tries again. “Alright.”

Jester watches him carefully as he sits on the bed across from her, soft lines of concern across her face. “What’s wrong, Fjord?”

“I—“ He doesn’t know how to say this. He’s never tried to tell someone before. “I, uh. I like you, okay?”

“Don’t be silly, Fjord, we knew that already—“

“But I don’t want to have sex with you.”

Jester stares back at him, mouth agape, and something like hurt flashes in her eyes. “What?”

“No—no, that didn’t—that didn’t come out right. I’m sorry,” Fjord says, shaking his head. “It’s not just you. I don’t want to have sex with anyone.” 

His heart is pounding in his chest so hard he thinks his ribs might be creaking. Every gulp of air he breathes in feels like it might be the last. Jester and Beau are looking at him, but he can’t tell what their expressions are—if they’re shocked, or confused, or worse. Unable to wait for a response, Fjord keeps rambling.

“I’ve always been like this, uh, as—as long as I can remember. Everybody got interested in it, and I just  _ didn’t _ . Even when I—when I tried. I don’t know, something’s just—wrong with me, I guess. But if it’s really important to you, I can try again, but I don’t know if—I don’t know. I get it, if it’s a dealbreaker for you, I know how important—”

“Fjord, no!” A blue hand grabs his, and he looks back at Jester, not remembering when, exactly, he’d turned away. She intertwines their fingers, a soft smile on her lips even with that worried crease between her brows. “It’s not a dealbreaker. It’s  _ not _ . Fjord—can you just sit down with us, please?”

He moves to sit on the other bed, but Jester pulls him back to the bed she’s on. It’s a tight squeeze—Jester basically ends up sitting in Beau’s lap—but they make it work. They always do. Finally, focusing on the warm hand tangled with his, Fjord’s breathing evens out, and he feels—not great, but steadier, at least. Like taking his first step onto the dock after months at sea.

“Fjord, nothing’s wrong with you,” Jester begins, taking his other hand and squeezing them both.

Something in his throat hitches oddly. He opens his mouth to protest, to ask if she knew really knew what he meant, but she shushes him.

“Just—let me finish, okay?” He nods, and she smiles. “Okay, good. So, you know how my mama sees a lot of different people, right? And like, she has sex with a lot of them, yeah, but some of them she doesn’t, you know? Because it’s not something they’re interested in.”

“Really?” Fjord asks, his voice hushed, like if he speaks any louder she might laugh in his face and say  _ of course not _ . 

“Yeah,” Beau chimes in, hooking her chin over Jester’s shoulder. “I had a friend like that once. Said they just weren’t interested in anybody that way and didn’t see the point in doing it.”

“Exactly! I mean, think about it, Fjord, if liking just girls, or just boys, or people who aren’t either, or  _ everybody _ are all options, then why can’t no one be an answer too?”

“But I do  _ like _ you,” he says, frowning. “Just...only in a romantic way.”

Jester bites her lip. “Hmmm. Well, liking somebody and wanting to have sex with somebody can be two different things, right? Like Veth, with the minotaur. She definitely wanted to get it on with him, you know, but it’s not like she had a crush on him.” Behind her, Beau mimes throwing up, and Fjord huffs a laugh.

“Alright, that’s...fair. I hadn’t thought about it that way before.”

“Besides, even if it wasn’t totally normal, I wouldn’t care,” Jester says, and her voice is playful and cheery, but the way she looks at him is not. “Sex is nice and all, but if you don’t want to do it, that’s okay. I don’t need it.”

Relief floods through his veins like the tides coming in, even as he asks, “Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Jester grins, and then with a mischievous waggle of her eyebrows, turns to Beau. “Besides, if I did need it, I’m pretty sure Beau is down to—”

“Yeah, I’m gonna cut that off there,” the woman in question says, cheeks suspiciously pink. Then she frowns. “But I’m not  _ just _ interested in that.” 

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant—” Jester shakes her head, laughing a little, and lets go of one of Fjord’s hands to take one of Beau’s. She glances between the two of them as she says, “I like both of you, romantically, sex or no sex. Okay?”

Both of them nod. Things are quiet for a moment as Fjord ducks his head, biting back a smile. Only minutes ago, he’d been so worried and now—he doesn’t know why. He should’ve known Jester wouldn’t turn her back on him. It’s one of the reasons he loves her.

Wait. 

Love?

Before he can fully process that realization, Jester gives his hand a tug. “Okay, so sex is off the table. But...what about other stuff? Do you still want to cuddle? Because like, if you don’t, that’s totally okay too, I just need to—”

Fjord laughs. “Yeah, Jester, I’m okay with cuddling. And, uh, kissing is fine, too.”

The smile that spreads across her face is so bright and warm that he has to wonder, for a second, if she’s cast one of her spells. But as always, it’s not a spell—it’s just Jester. “Awesome. So, like, do you want to do it now?”

“Kissing? You want to—right now?” He sputters, cheeks growing hot. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but Beau is right there, and that would just be sort of—weird. Beau’s clearly thinking the same thing, considering the scrunched up face she’s making. 

“No, silly, I meant cuddling,” Jester says, snickering. 

“Not sure this bed is big enough for that.” Beau peers over Jester’s shoulder, grimacing at how her and Fjord’s knees are pushing against each other as is. 

As she looks back and forth between the two beds, Fjord can practically see the mischievous gears turning in Jester’s head. He exchanges a glance with Beau, whose expression basically says what he’s thinking: this should be interesting. Then Jester shouts, “I have an idea,” and practically leaps off the bed to grab the haversack as both of them watch with matching lovestruck smiles. 

One paintbrush and several probable abuses of divine magic later, they’re lying in a double bed, Fjord on one side, Beau on the other, with Jester in the middle. For awhile, they talk—not about anything important, but about the people they’d met in town that day, about Sprinkles’ recent obsession with Caduceus’s pink lichen, about what kinds of cupcakes the Cobalt Soul would accept as bribes. Jester lays her head on Fjord’s shoulder, letting him slowly untangle the jewelry and ribbons she has hanging off her horns, while Beau curls up to her side, offering commentary every now and then. It’s nice. Simple. Everything Fjord’s dreamed of, honestly.

Later, they’ll talk about Avantika. Later, Jester will cry a little, and Beau will tighten her grip on her staff until her knuckles are white, and both of them will make him promise not to do things he’s not comfortable with just because he thinks he doesn’t have a choice. Later, they’ll discuss boundaries more, lay the groundwork for what they’re doing, and figure things out. 

But for now, there is just this: the three of them, cuddling in a hastily fused bed, together and content.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, even if I'm not great at responding. Social anxiety is a bit of an ass, but I promise I read and cherish every single one <3 Constructive criticism is also welcome and appreciated, just please don't be rude about it.  
> You can find me on Tumblr either on my main [rebelspaceace](https://rebelspaceace.tumblr.com/) or my Critical Role/The Magnus Archives sideblog [xhorass](https://xhorass.tumblr.com/).


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